The Story of the Scarf
by RonaldAndMione
Summary: Hermione's scarf has been on quite an interesting journey. Set in DH.


**I made it. It took awhile, with my busy schedule, but I managed to finish re-writing this story to post it today, on my birthday. I liked the original much better, as there were extra parts that I can't really remember well, and it just seemed like the overall writing was much better, but seeing as I lost it, there's not much I can do now except put up this, because I'm still happy with it. I'm now going to start re-writing the companion piece to September. Again, I'm sorry if there are any mistakes in this, because I was typing on a small little phone like I did in Ron's Request. I tried to fix anything I spotted.**

**I guess I had the idea for this ever since I saw Deathly Hallows Part 1. I'd always wanted Ron to find Hermione's scarf and bring it back to her. Unfortunately, the fact that in Malfoy Manor Scabior had it disappointed me. But, being the persistent shipper that I am, I still clung to the hope that Ron somehow got a hold of the scarf and returned it to her. I used the facts and knowledge that I had to come up with this story.**

**- Scabior has the scarf during the chase scene and Malfoy Manor.**

**- Once he gets strangled, the scarf is a little loose around his neck, in my opinion, and he's walking away very slowly.**

**- Scabior does not have the scarf in Part 2.**

**I wondered what happened to the scarf, and as a Ron/Hermione shipper, this is what I came up with.**

**The Story of the Scarf**

She didn't know what made her do it. She didn't know how she came up with the idea. When she looked back on it, it seemed like a bit of a silly action. However, standing out there in the forest clearing, it seemed like the right thing to do.

Lifting up her arms, Hermione gently uncoiled the pink scarf from around her neck. She gasped softly as the cold winter air bit at her tender, newly exposed skin.

The scarf felt soft and smooth in her hands. She ran her fingers over the delicate fabric, eyeing every detail. Harry was waiting for her, she knew that, but she also knew that she had to do this.

Hermione looked up at the old tree. It stood strong, some of its thinnest branches swaying in the breeze. Hermione let go of one end of the scarf, and let it swing behind the tree's trunk. She caught the end and wrapped it around the trunk, tying both ends in a knot and letting them dangle down towards the forest floor.

She wondered if he'd see it. Was he looking for them? Was he still out there, cold and hungry like she and Harry were, but alone? Did he wish he was back with them, like Hermione did?

Hermione knew she couldn't postpone the inevitable any longer. She looked over at Harry, who stood silently and patiently. He didn't want to leave either, but they had to.

Hermione walked up to him, grasped his hand, took out her wand and apparated them away, leaving her scarf and heart behind in the place she last saw Ron.

* * *

><p>They hadn't found anything interesting today, and he knew they were getting impatient. He was too. They were freezing, moving only to keep their bodies warm and to perhaps find a frightened mudblood and earn some money off them.<p>

"Come on, fellas." Scabior said. "Let's keep moving. There's a clearing up ahead. We'll split up and go in different directions to cover more ground." He pointed at the forest clearing, which looked brighter than the rest of the forest due to the sunlight shining down onto it. Something shiny glinted ahead. Scabior paused.

"Fellas," he began, "what's that?"

They looked puzzled, but Scabior knew what they were thinking - something shiny was bound to be something valuable. With renewed enthusiasm they began running, making their way over rocks and logs whilst dodging trees.

Scabior got to it first, and growled furiously once he realised it was a measly scarf around a trunk of a tree. The others also looked disheartened once more.

"Take a look around." Scabior told them. "The owner might still be here."

They scattered around, whilst Scabior remained at the tree with the pink article of clothing. There was something interesting about this scarf. Scabior lifted the end up to examine it closely, but the fabric did not seem familiar. The wooly string of the scarf did not remind him of anything. Scabior was about to let go when an extremely familiar scent filled his nostrils. It was strong, very strong, and it seemed to be a strange mixture of pine and fruit. Where had he smelt it before?

Scabior's dark eyes slowly widened in realisation. He knew he hadn't been imagining that scent. It was that scent that he'd smelled a few months ago, but was unable to identify. He hadn't seen the source then... Was the owner of the scarf still here, but invisible to them just like they had been two months ago?

"Pay attention, fellas!" he yelled, and unwrapped the scarf from the tree. He lifted it up to smell that strong, interesting scent once more.

Why was the scarf here? Was it a message? To whom? Why would they leave it if they were here and could deliver the message themsel- they couldn't. If they were here, they wouldn't leave this scarf out in the open.

"They're not here!" Scabior said, and beckoned for everyone to keep going on their treck. He was about to join them when he had an idea.

Scabior wrapped the scarf around his neck, breathed in deeply through his nose and continued on his way.

* * *

><p>Harry was extremely relieved that his best friends were talking again. It had been excruciating watching Ron and Hermione tear themselves apart over this. Ron had gone out of his way to make sure Hermione was happy, safe and comfortable. He done everything he could to show her how he changed and how truly sorry he was for leaving. Hermione, during that time, had been having a fight with herself over whether to forgive him or not. Harry was glad with her decision.<p>

Now Ron and Hermione were back to normal. Ron was still a little nervous around her, determined not to make a mistake that would reverse everything, but overall things were as close to wonderful as they could be. They had Ron back, the final piece of the Golden Trio had returned.

It was Harry's turn to guard the tent, and he was outside. The January air was bitterly cold, but Harry felt warmer than ever knowing his _two_ friends were inside the tent, here and safe.

"Ron," Hermione said, and Harry could hear her place a cup of tea down on the table.

Something rustled in the tent and Harry had a feeling Ron had stumbled up and knocked over his radio, causing the static to grow louder. "Yeah, Hermione? What's wrong?"

"I just have a question." She began. "Did you... when you were... gone... did you come back to the clearing we'd last been in?"

Harry heard Ron intake a breath and he leaned his head back to try and hear a bit more through the tent. "Yeah," Ron said quietly. "I did."

Harry could tell Hermione's eyes had just widened, and he was pretty surprised to – why hadn't Ron mentioned anything? Did he not see the scarf?

"Did you notice anything?" Hermione asked him eagerly.

There was a long pause, and Harry had a feeling it was because Ron was coming up with the words for a long speech about the scarf. This was why the next words that came out of Ron's mouth completely boggled Harry. "No... should I have?"

"There was a scarf," Hermione said quietly. "I left a scarf for you there."

"Your pink one?" Ron exclaimed. "You love that scarf."

"It felt like the right thing to do at the time." Hermione said hastily. "So you didn't see it?"

"No." Ron said, and Harry knew he was telling the truth. "I know I came back to that clearing though, because, well, you don't just forget a place like that."

"It's not there, Hermione." Harry said, walking into the tent. "Someone must have taken it before Ron got there."

"Blimey," Ron said, grabbing the edge of his mattress with his hands and gripping it tightly.

"Imagine if they'd come while I dawdled around with the scarf," Hermione gasped. "We could've been seen by _any_one!"

"Hermione, calm down." Ron said, standing up and approaching her. "No one saw you. It's all fine. You just lost your scarf." Hermione nodded, allowing Ron to gently rub her arms. Harry felt like he was intruding on a moment like this, but if he left now, he'd distract them from themselves and would ruin the moment again.

"And also," Ron said in a low voice, bending his head down closer to Hermione's, as if he were saying something secret to her, "thanks for leaving it for me."

Harry couldn't help but grin. So Ron _had_ understood the meaning of the scarf. Ron really had matured. Maybe he'd matured enough so that he and Hermione could finally, _finally_ end their dancing around and become a couple already.

Harry walked out of the tent feeling a bit more upbeat than before. It may finally finish. Years of Harry watching awkwardly as Ron and Hermione tried to repress their frustrating feelings could finally be over. Harry couldn't even help but whistle.

If everything goes according to plan, they'll get together in February and once all this is over, Harry will get his 10 galleons from Fred and George.

* * *

><p>Ron wasn't paying attention to anything that Bellatrix and Draco were doing, although perhaps he should have, seeing as they were discussing Harry and whether the disfigured man Bellatrix was holding on to was really was him.<p>

He couldn't focus on them though, not when a few feet away, Scabior was holding Hermione, sniffing her neck frequently, looking at her in a leering manner. Hermione had a pained expression on her face, mixed with revulsion, most likely at whatever Scabior was murmuring into her right ear. Ron could hear her quiet whimper. He was shaking, the only thing stopping him from attacking Scabior being Greyback's arms, which clung to him tightly.

"I can't be sure," Draco said quietly. Ron's head whirled around in shock. Had Draco just said he didn't know if that was Harry Potter? Anyone who had spent the past seven years with him had to know it was him. No, Draco knew it was Harry Potter in front of him, but why wasn't that sneaky git saying so?

"Save some for me," Greyback whispered to Scabior, who looked up at the werewolf with an evil smirk.

"Over my dead body," Ron growled, writing in Greyback's arms.

"We won't have too long to wait then," Greyback snarled into Ron's ear, and was about to say something else when someone was shoved into them.

Hermione slammed straight into Greyback, her face landing against his chest. Greyback roughly turned her around. Ron glanced over at Scabior, wondering why he had suddenly let go of her, and when Scabior spoke, Ron had his answer.

"Now you won't be forgetting who caught him, I hope, Mr. Malfoy." Scabior said, a warning tone in his voice. Evidently, Malfoy Senior had said something that insinuated that he'd caught Harry.

"You dare speak to me like that in my own house!" Lucius shouted, taking a deep breath as his wife rushed forward to calm him, murmuring his name soothingly.

Bellatrix ignored this commotion, beckoning Draco Malfoy to come forward. "Come on now sweetie, don't be shy. Now, if this isn't who we think it is and we call him, he'll kill us all. We need to be absolutely sure."

Everyone was watching this unfold intently. Ron took this opportunity to glance over at Hermione, who was standing so close to him every inch of their sides were touching.

"You alright?" he murmured.

Hermione's eyes looked up, meeting his worried blue ones. "Fine." she whispered breathlessly. "I'll survive."

Ron opened his mouth to reply when he felt himself get hit in the stomach roughly - not enough to distract anyone from Draco and Harry.

"Quiet." Greyback snarled as Ron lifted his head up once more; he'd bent over slightly to try and alleviate the pain.

Hermione was looking at him worriedly, but Ron smiled at her and slipped his hand quietly into hers. She gave him a quick squeeze and they turned to face the unfolding scene.

"Something 'e picked up in the forest." a snatcher was saying.

"Or ran into a Stinging Jinx." Bellatrix said slowly. Hermione let out a soft gasp and dropped Ron's hand reflexively in fear. "Was it you, dearie?" Bellatrix asked, gesturing towards Hermione. "Give me her wand; let's see what her last spell was." Ron took a small step forward, as far as he could with Greyback holding him, to protect Hermione from whatever Bellatrix was about to do.

But Bellatrix simply laughed. "Got you," she said, walking past them, still giggling. Then suddenly, the laughter stopped and Bellatrix gasped. "What's that?" she whispered, sounding almost fearful. "Where did you get that from?"

She was pointing at the sword of Godric Gryffindor, which was being held onto tightly by a snatcher. Her question was aimed at him.

"It was in her bag when we searched her, reckon it's mine now."

In a flash a whip had come out of Bellatrix's wand and was wrapping itself around the snatcher's neck. Ron stepped back in shock - her action was so sudden, so unexpected. Soon, the other snatchers were under attack, and Greyback shoved Ron and Hermione away from him as he too felt Bellatrix's wrath. Ron slammed into the wall and looked over at Hermione nervously, wondering if she was alright. She seemed to be as good as she could be in this situation.

"Are you mad?" Scabior exclaimed, and he became Bellatrix's next victim, writhing and gasping for life as the whip circled his throat. Hermione's scarf, still around his neck, began to loosen. Although previously aware that Scabior had Hermione's scarf, the act of seeing it slip from around his neck seemed to make Ron realise how angered he was at the fact that Scabior had something of Hermione's.

"Out! Go! Go!" Bellatrix shouted at the snatchers. Slowly and dazedly they began to stumble towards the door. With a maniacal look in her eyes, Bellatrix turned to glare at Ron and Hermione. Ron swallowed as she marched over to them. Hermione's hand swiftly grabbed his in fear. Ron gripped it tightly, determined to not let go, to not leave Hermione's side.

Bellatrix snatched Ron's shoulder and tugged him away from Hermione. "Put the boys in the cellar!" Ron tried to keep holding on, he held in with all his might, but Hermione's shaking hand slipped out of his. He turned around to run back to Hermione, to get her away from Bellatrix, but Narcissa suddenly appeared, shoving her wand at his throat, and Ron couldn't do anything but walk backwards with Harry, further and further away from Hermione. "I'm going to have a conversation with this one, girl to girl."

Panic, sheer panic and fear took over Ron. If he'd been scared before, it was nothing compared to what he felt now. "No," he murmured, because it wasn't true, Hermione was not about to be left alone with the monster who'd killed and tortured countless numbers of people.

Hermione tore her eyes away from Bellatrix's and glanced over at Ron desperately, and Ron had never seen her look so frightened before, and he had a feeling he wasn't looking that much braver either. He knew he had a terrified look on his face, and he couldn't give her a reassuring smile about this.

Bellatrix stepped back from Hermione, blocking her from him. As Ron moved further back, he passed Scabior, who was still stumbling out slowly. The scarf he was wearing was barely on him anymore. Not sure why he did it, but needing something of Hermione's to hold on to, he tugged the scarf and watched as it slipped off of Scabior into his awaiting palm. For Scabior, still stunned after being choked, Hermione's scarf seemed to be the last thing on his mind, and he let Ron take it with only a withering glare in his direction.

Ron hastily stuffed the pink accessory into the inside pocket of his jacket as they neared the stairs to the cellar. He found Hermione's frightened brown eyes and held her gaze for as long as he could, fearful that this may be the last time he saw her but determined that it won't be, and that after all this, he'd be able to return to her her scarf.

* * *

><p>The peace and serenity Hermione felt at Shell Cottage was a kind she hadn't felt in a long time. She relished the ability to observe the world from a window, resting on a soft mattress. The reason she got this opportunity, however, was far from soothing.<p>

She was recovering after being tortured. She had been _tortured_. Hermione shuddered at the memory. That had been the most frightening moment of her life. The agony she had to put up with, the fight she had with herself as every inch of her was screaming 'TELL HER, TELL HER EVERYTHING!' She had wanted death, wanted it desperately – anything to make the pain stop.

Then she'd heard Ron.

The relief she felt flood through her as she heard his cries seemed to drown the pain, if only for a moment. Hermione pressed her ears to the floor to try and hear it more. He was alive; he was okay, but extremely worried about her. She didn't just hear her name; in his voice she heard his desperation and him begging her to stay strong. And she did. She did not tell. If it weren't for Ron, she would have blabbed. If it weren't for Ron, she would have fallen into unconsciousness much sooner. Ron had saved her, and ultimately saved them and their mission.

Now she was alive and safe in Bill and Fleur's new home, recuperating after the ordeal. Fleur had placed several pillows underneath her so that she could sit up comfortably. Hermione took this opportunity to admire the cottage's surroundings.

She breathed in slowly, and though the window was closed, Hermione could almost feel the sea in the air. The smell of salt water was ever-present. The sky was grey, the water murky and the waves fierce, but Hermione couldn't remember the last time she'd been so pleased by scenery.

A knock on the door alerted Hermione. She quickly turned her head to face the entrance and opened her mouth to speak. "Come in," she croaked, for her voice was still recovering. At one point Bellatrix had shoved her wand into Hermione's mouth, targeting the insides, including her vocal cords. That had probably been the worst curse.

Expecting it to be Fleur bringing in some food, Hermione was surprised to find Ron poke his head into the room. "Hey," he whispered, trying to look optimistic.

Hermione gave him a small smile. "Hi." She said softly.

Ron walked in completely and closed the door behind him quietly. His arms were behind his back and he looked expectantly at her. "How're you feeling?" he asked.

Hermione shrugged. "Better." She said.

Ron nodded. "Is there anything I can get you? Do you want some—"

"I'm fine, Ron." Hermione said. "Could you just... just stay here, with me?" Hermione blushed slightly, feeling a little embarrassed.

Ron, on the other hand, looked rather pleased with himself. "Yeah," he said in a low voice, "of course." He took that as an invitation to sit down on the bed. It squeaked as it received more pressure on it. "So, what do you want to do?" he asked. "I'm all yours."

_I'll tell you what I'd _like_ to do_, Hermione thought as her eyes lowered to his lips. But now wasn't the time. She was still recovering, still weak, and Ron would be far too gentle with her, as if afraid she'll die if he wasn't careful. It wouldn't be right. It wouldn't be the kiss that she'd waited for for years, the unleashing of frustration and feelings kept reserved for years.

Instead, Hermione blushed and whispered. "I don't even know."

Ron left out a soft laugh. "So we'll just sit here?"

Hermione nodded. "If that's okay?"

Ron looked at her. "Hermione, anything's okay. I was afraid I wouldn't even get to _row_ with you again. Just... as long as you're alive, I don't care what we're doing." His eyes did not leave hers.

_Kiss him. Kiss him._ "So if I had volumes of Hogwarts, A History," Hermione began, "you'd read it with me?"

Ron looked torn, but ultimately nodded. "If I absolutely had to, yes."

That comment made Hermione smile widely. "I think I've got it here, somewhere."

"Oh, that's okay," Ron said hastily, "you sit, I'll have a look around, find it." Ron turned his head to look at the room wildly. "No, it's not here, too bad."

Hermione giggled, and it annoyed her immensely that Ron was able to elicit that sound from her. Ron grinned at her, appearing to be quite proud.

Hermione watched him. His round blue eyes, his long nose, his thin but kissable lips... she couldn't believe that not 24 hours ago, she thought she'd never see them again. Things had seemed so bleak for her then, so lost.

As she watched him, she noticed he was still hiding his hands from her. Curiosity got the best of her and she gestured to them with her hands. "What are you hiding?" she asked.

Ron glanced at his hands, his smile suddenly off his face. "I've got something for you." He said quietly.

Hermione nodded and waited patiently. When it seemed Ron was not going to add anything else, or do anything else, she said, "Well, can I have it then?"

He looked up at her, genuinely worried. "Are you sure you're feeling alright?"

Hermione nodded again. "Yes, I'm fine. Ron, what's going on?"

Ron lifted his hands up so that she could see them. In them was her pink scarf, dirty and slightly torn, but intact and okay. Hermione's eyes widened and her mouth followed. "How'd you—" she managed to get out.

"Scabior had just been, you know, strangled, and the scarf was the last thing on his mind. I was being, you know... carried away..." Ron took a deep breath to calm himself. Hermione, too, was feeling almost sick as she recalled how Ron was being taken away. "Anyway, you were kinda busy with Bellatrix and Narcissa was busy with Harry, and I just needed to... to, you know... I needed to grab onto something of yours... it's stupid, I know—"

"It's not stupid at all." Hermione said softly.

Ron blushed, but continued. "Anyway, I took it off him... he didn't really care. The scarf wasn't exactly top priority for him then." He twisted the scarf between his fingers. "I told myself you were going to get out of this, and you were going to get it back. I was worried it'd bring back bad memories for you, but you said you were okay." He extended it to her. "So, here."

Hermione smiled warmly, feeling a pressure behind her eyelids. She picked up the scarf, holding it in her hands for the first time in three months. "Thank you, Ron."

Ron shrugged. "It's the least I could do then... I just felt so... so helpless."

"You saved my life, Ron." She told him truthfully.

He gave her a one-sided grin. "It was nothing." After a small pause, he gestured to the pink scarf once more. "It kind of reminds me of you."

Hermione looked down at it, feeling a little embarrassed. "What do you mean?"

"Well, it's been through a hell of a lot, and it's got a few scars, but it's still alive. It's still intact. Just like you." He gave her a reassuring smile. "And if a scarf is still okay after going through all that, I'm pretty sure you'll be fine too."

Hermione shook her head in wonder. "How could I have said you have the emotional range of a teaspoon?"

Ron chuckled, but didn't say anything. Instead, he stretched out his arms, inviting her to hug him. Hermione gladly leaned forward into his warm embrace, smiling as she felt his strong body against hers. It was her favourite place in the world, Ron's arms. She ducked her head into the crook between his neck and shoulder, breathing in deeply. She let go of the scarf and her arms wrapped themselves around his neck. Ron tightened his hold on her. The pink scarf floated gracefully down onto Hermione's lap, finally home, just like its owner.

**A/N It's my birthday. I'd love a review. ;)**


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